I'd Come For You
by Silverspoon
Summary: No matter what, they would always bring each other home. Based on the Nickelback song. No porn, sorry, despite the title. AU, Collab with WelshWitch1011, because we're co-dependent.
1. Part One - Inside Out

_**Authors' Note -** _This fic is a collaboration between Silverspoon and Welshwitch1011. After being forced to sit through the AOS DVD boxset and subjected to Silverspoon's constant and borderline obsessive Skyeward chatter, Welshwitch has finally hopped aboard the ship and is willing to co-captain this baby! I've warned her that there aren't enough lifeboats for us all, but she seems pretty optimistic.

If we missed any errors, it's probably because we were too eager to go work on part two, so you'll forgive us, right?

We should probably mention that this fic is set in an AU universe where San Juan ended in Skye stopping Raina instead of being exposed to the mist. Tripp is still alive, but not featured, and Skye has no awakened powers. She still shot Ward, though. And he is still so pretty that it should be illegal.

_**Part One**_

'_**Inside Out'**_

_**Berlin, Germany**_

_**October 12**__**th**__** 2015**_

He didn't really expect anyone to come.

He'd made his fair share of mistakes, more than his fair share actually, and it was time to reap what he had sown. He supposed it was long overdue, really. But that didn't mean he didn't have regrets. Those were piled high in his mind and were probably the only thing keeping him conscious after the extreme blood loss he had endured over the last 48 hours. It was possibly a miracle that he was even still breathing but Grant Ward was nowhere near narcissistic enough to believe that he, of all people, deserved one of those.

Not to say that he was a religious man; he'd spent far too much time in his youth praying to a God that had never answered for that. Nonetheless, he knew that there was more to Heaven and Earth, Science and Nature, than his tiny, compartmentalised little mind could possibly discern. So, miracles did indeed happen and his regrets were too innumerable to count, and he was very likely going to bleed out on a metal gurney in an abandoned psychiatric hospital that had been commandeered by Hydra. There was irony lurking somewhere in the whole situation but Ward's body was too tired, and his mind too addled by pain and the face of a smiling brunette to truly appreciate it.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside the old operating room made every muscle stiffen in anticipation of further torture. Despite his captor's admittedly dedicated efforts to extract information from him, the secrets he guarded had yet to be compromised. Ward wasn't sure just how long his physical self could endure the torment but he knew his mind was unbreakable, having spent the last few years so deep undercover as a triple agent that he found it difficult to remember his life before this mission, or the man he had once been.

SHIELD... Hydra... SHIELD. Ward had become a skilled and cold-blooded operative, able to effortlessly move between the two organisations without initially having raised any concerns for his loyalty. But Grant Ward had become lost in the performance and if he allowed himself one regret it was that Coulson and the team still believed him to be a traitor. Perhaps one day Fury would reveal the intricate details of the operation but, for now, Ward was lost to his former colleagues and the woman he had accidentally fallen in love with.

Struggling to raise his head to greet the three imposing figures filing through the doorway, Ward offered them a self-assured smile and took a slow breath. He wouldn't let them see him flinch; he hadn't yet. For every injury they inflicted, he found himself withdrawing further and further into the recesses of his mind. And those recesses were carved pretty deep.

"Mr. Ward," one of the men crooned, his clipped German accent making even the greeting sound like a thinly veiled threat, "and how are we doing this morning?"

"Never better," Ward replied through gritted teeth, discreetly pulling against the straps that held him down as he tested their strength.

Glancing at the monitors surrounding their prisoner, the man briefly examined the screens that displayed Ward's vital signs and he smiled in amusement. Although Ward's blood pressure periodically changed- perhaps due to their colourful interrogation methods or possibly as a consequence of blood loss and dehydration - Ward's heart rate remained infuriatingly low.

Picking up an electrode from a nearby trolley, the German flicked a switch and immediately a series of blue sparks hissed and crackled from the device. Casting a sinister glance at the man strapped to the metal trolley, he gestured for his accomplices to surround him.

"I guess it's party time, huh boys?" Ward quipped, and allowed his head to fall back hard against the thin mattress even as two hundred volts ripped through his body.

**x-x-x**

She had never felt more alone.

The feelings coursing through her were incomparable to anything she had ever felt before, and she had been an orphan, kidnapped by a government agency, shot in the gut twice and betrayed by the man she had loved, so that was really saying something. Doubt, fear, rage, guilt and shame collided into her with such force that she was genuinely surprised that she was still standing.

She checked her weapon again, if only to steady her nerves, and found that the task actually only succeeding in causing her heart rate to accelerate wildly. She could hear her own blood rushing in her ears and feel the frantic thrum of her pulse in her neck, and soon the monitor she wore on her wrist had begun to beep shrilly, threatening to blow her already tenuous cover entirely.

Skye swore louder than she really ought to have and ripped the strap from her arm, before tossing it some distance into the surrounding trees. The mental institution had lain abandoned for several decades and had been allowed to fall into a state of disrepair that gave Skye cause for concern that the floorboards might actually give way beneath her feet. However, she hardly had the time to entertain such thoughts, given that her target had been in the hands of his abductors for well over a day already.

Indecision briefly stopped her in her tracks, and she wondered whether or not risking her life for a self-confessed traitor and murderer meant she had finally lost her mind. The fact she was breaking in to a former asylum was not lost on Skye.

But whatever Ward was - a traitor, a monster or something far worse - he had still somehow managed to worm his way into her heart, and she wasn't about to let him die at the hands of Hydra scumbags who made the Third Reich look like the Care Bears. If anybody was going to make Grant Ward suffer, it was going to be her.

Of course the question of just why Hydra had decided to target their most infamous specialist was another matter entirely. Skye could only suppose that he'd been caught in some duplicitous act or other.

And of course it had been no surprise to Skye that Coulson and May had refused to assist in an extraction of their former friend. She understood their reasoning and accepted their indifference, but that was one thing she could not be where Grant Ward was concerned; indifferent.

Once Skye loved, she loved recklessly and completely, and it was one of the many personality traits she hoped her SHIELD training would help to eliminate. Although given her current position, hiding out in the overgrown shrubbery surrounding an abandoned mental hospital overrun with Hydra operatives, with nothing but a couple of handguns and a few stun grenades in her arsenal, it was safe to say that it was still a personality flaw she had yet to overcome.

"Get in, extract the treacherous douchebag... get out," she said quietly, closing her eyes and taking slow, deep breaths to try to calm herself and stop her hands from shaking quite so much.

Pushing down both her fear and her confusion, Skye stole from the bushes concealing her and moved closer to the ancient, crumbling red brick building. She ducked down behind more foliage as a trio of Hydra soldiers appeared from around the far left corner of the asylum wall, carrying rifles and talking animatedly about some football game that Skye couldn't have cared less about if she'd tried.

Almost holding her breath, the woman lay flat on the damp grass and curled her knees up into her chest to prevent from being spotted. The move seemed to do the trick and, as Skye listened to the sound of the voices retreating into the distance, she sprang to her feet again only to make a beeline for a boarded up window. It was hardly the safest or most covert entrance she would choose but time was not on her side, so Skye set to work prying rotten wooden boards from the window frame with her bare hands.

After only a few minutes she had managed to pull away enough of the temporary barricade to allow her to slip through the window. She barely had time to hope that there was not another Hydra guard on the other side before she had thrown herself into the corridor, executing a somewhat clumsy forward roll in the process.

Skye sprang to her feet and adopted a defensive pose, relieved beyond all measure to discover that the corridor was completely empty, aside from a rickety looking wheelchair and a broken old IV stand. She let out an involuntary shudder as her eyes swept the perimeter, taking in the layers of dust, creepy paintings hanging lopsided on the walls and the ominously stained floor tiles. Her own research had told her that the hospital had been closed down under the immense weight of claims of physical and mental abuse, but Skye quickly buried those particular thoughts, not wanting to dwell on the horrors that were undoubtedly imprinted on the very fabric of the building.

She watched her feet carefully, trying not to step in the rubble, paperwork and medical supplies or make any noise that might alert the guards to her presence. Creeping toward a doorway, gun gripped tightly in hand, she peered furtively down each end of the hall and listened for the sound of anyone approaching.

A muffled groan suddenly caught her attention and she strained to ascertain the direction it had come from. She needn't have waited long, because a louder, more anguished cry assaulted her eardrums only moments later, leading Skye down a gloomy hallway littered with abandoned beds and wheelchairs.

She flattened against the wall suddenly as three men wearing white coats strolled past, laughing and joking to each other in another language and seeming thankfully oblivious to their guest.

Making sure the hallway was now clear, Skye crept down the corridor, glancing into each room she passed as she made her way toward a larger room where an old sign hung precariously from the wall. Since speaking German was not in her particular skill set, Skye had no concept of where she was headed, and so she approached the door with renewed caution.

She stood on tiptoes to see through the glass panel in the door, taking care not to injure herself on the shards of broken glass that jutted out of the neighbouring panel. Squinting through the gloomy room, lit only by a skylight partially concealed by ivy and overgrowth, her breath caught in her chest as she made out a figure lying on the operating table in the centre of the room.

Skye paused, closing her eyes and exhaling before she hesitantly pushed on the door and adopted a defensive stance.

"Back so soon?" a voice called out weakly - it was a voice Skye recognised at once.

Every muscle in her body tensed in reaction to it and Skye almost stumbled forwards, a witty retort dying on her lips before it had been born.

Ward squinted in disbelief, his lips curving downwards in a grimace that furrowed his brow and accentuated the cleft in his chin.

"You're not real," he accused, his tone gruff and cold, "you're a... a hallucination... the mind's attempt to comfort the body through its pain... or a side effect from... a... drug..."

Skye bobbed her head once in acceptance of Ward's skepticism before pulling back her right fist and punching him hard in the jaw. Ward's head was flung to the side from the impact of the blow and he let a strangled cry of pain as Skye shook her tingling hand and watched him.

"Still think I'm a hallucination?" she checked, arching a dark brow at Ward, who opened his mouth experimentally to test if she had dislocated his jaw with the vicious punch.

"How badly are you hurt?" Skye demanded, wasting no time in undoing the wrist restraints and releasing the metal shackles that held his ankles to the table.

"I'll live," Ward said through clenched teeth, finding that he lacked the strength to sit up unaided and the pain that overcame him when he tried was almost enough to cause him to vomit.

"Whoah, easy does it, tiger," Skye instructed, peering toward the door as she slipped her arm around Ward's waist and tried to help him to his feet, "we gotta get out of here."

Ward's chest rose and fell with alarming frequency, and she could see he was struggling for breath. A warm, sticky substance coated her fingertips and she glanced down in horror at her hand to find a slick of blood coating her skin.

"Oh my God," she breathed, panic now well and truly setting in as she saw the true nature of his injuries, and the bruises, burns and stab wounds that marred his torso made her mouth run dry.

Ward tried to gently shrug her off as she attempted to usher him toward the door, and he halted her steps, reaching up to rest a shaking hand against her cheek.

"Skye... what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, brushing his thumb over her cheek and allowing himself to revel in the fact she did not immediately recoil from his touch.

"I came to get you," she replied, confused by his question as she thought the answer was already more than evident.

"Why?"

He frowned, unable to comprehend why someone who believed him to be a murderer and a traitor would risk their own life to rescue him. His pitiful existence was not worth her life, and the idea of Skye putting herself in danger to save his sorry hide made Ward feel sick to the stomach.

"Now's not really the time for caring and sharing, Ward, okay? We have to get the hell out here. Just... just lean on me and we'll take it slow," she directed, helping him to hobble a few paces toward the door.

Droplets of blood landed on the dusty linoleum floor, and they had barely made it three steps when Ward almost dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Skye pushed him sideways, just about managing to push him against the side of the operating table so he could assist her in holding him up.

"Skye, go!" he demanded, struggling against the unfamiliar sensation of his heart beating furiously in his chest.

"I'll just hold you back, I won't..." he winced as the searing pain in his chest caught each time he inhaled too deeply, "I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. Please, please just get out of here."

"Would you just quit whining?" Skye snapped, her voice low but sharp as she struggled to bear Ward's weight, which was at least twice that of her own. "God... I broke protocol and about 3 billion SHIELD rules to come here, not to mention my own admittedly sketchy moral code so... could you at least pretend to be grateful that I'm trying to haul your butt out of Dodge before they had a chance to make Grant-julienne?"

"You're... here alone?" Ward demanded, groaning as he gripped the edge of the table in an effort to alleviate Skye of the burden of some of his weight.

"Do you see anyone behind me?" she retorted, her eyes dropping to the ground as she realised not for the first time just how in over her head she really was. Coulson would likely be furious with her, if she ever made it out alive, and she didn't even want to consider what May would do to her. Their orders had been clear enough when she had approached them over Ward's abduction; stay away, leave it alone, let him rot.

"After everything that I've done, everything you think I am... why would you..." he began, trailing off as his breath caught in his throat.

"Hey, hey, easy there, big guy," Skye instructed, gesturing towards the door with a slight inclination of her head, "let's take it slow and steady, okay?"

From outside the building, the unmistakable sound of gunfire rang out, and before either agent had a chance to move, the skylight glass smashed and a uniformed Hydra operative hurtled unceremoniously to the floor. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and Skye's eyes widened in surprise.

"But, you know... fast is good too," she instructed, trying to lead Ward that little bit quicker towards the door.

"Sounds like someone else has joined the party," Ward speculated, listening to the distinctive sound of a fist fight that seemed to be taking place only yards from where they were standing.

"Let's not stick around to find out," Skye replied, rolling her eyes and sighing in abject irritation as Ward once again stopped dragging his sizeable frame toward what she hoped would be safety.

"Seriously? What is it now? You forget your purse or something?! We have to go, Ward! Like, now!" she hissed.

"Look," he began, starting to feel more than a little disorientated, he assumed as a result of the wounds expelling a steady stream of blood down his chest and back, "just... just wait a second. I... I need to tell you something..."

Seeing her shoot him a patented glare of death, he held up one trembling hand in a bid to silence her.

"I'm not what you think I am, I... I need you to know that. If I don't make it out of here, and..." he glanced down at his injuries, "that's a pretty real possibility... you need to know that I didn't betray you."

"We're not doing this now," Skye sighed irritably, "you're a treacherous bastard, Ward. But I'm not letting you take the easy way out. You're coming with me and then you can spend the rest of your life thinking about the horrible, messed up, psychopathic... c_rappy _things that you did."

Hearing the scuffle upstairs drawing nearer, Ward realised time was of the essence and he decided to forgo any detailed explanation in favour of a more 'bullet point' approach.

"I was working for Fury. Black ops... Deep cover. Level ten clearance," he faltered, "I couldn't tell you and Coulson has no idea. I still shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't want to die with you thinking I'm some kind of monster."

"Fury?" Skye raised both eyebrows, her expression dubious.

"Did they load you up with the good drugs, Ward?" she glanced around the room, peering in an accusatory manner at the trays of syringes and vials.

"I'm serious, Skye," he replied through gritted teeth as a wave of pain washed over him, "I promised you I'd never lie to you again and I..."

"Cut the crap, Ward," she hissed, feeling a jolt of mild satisfaction as she began to drag Ward towards the door and he grunted in pain. "Just keep moving."

"I wish there was something I could say to make you believe..." he lamented, his voice sounding so small and mournful that Skye almost experienced a stab of pity on his behalf. Almost.

"Well, there isn't," she answered, although somewhat gentler and more measured.

Nodding as though he had accepted Skye's refusal, Ward bowed his head as they shuffled out into the hallway. Frantic yells and pained cries drifted down the corridor, and Skye deliberately turned a corner in order to avoid running into the two warring factions. She could feel Ward breathing laboriously at her side and she made an effort to coax him into picking up the pace, uncertain of how far away the nearest actual hospital was from the asylum. She knew that his chances were dwindling by the moment and the possibility that he might not pull through scared her more than she would ever care to admit, either to herself or anyone else.

"Wait here, I'm going to check the hall," Skye instructed, pausing to lean Ward against a wall before she inched towards the end of the hall and peered around the corner. Noting that the coast was mercifully clear, Skye ran back to Ward, only to find him slumped on the ground with his back pressed against the wall. His skin was pallid and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. As he peered up into Skye's features, his eyes hazy and almost glazed over, a wistful smile ghosted across his lips.

"No, no, no..." Skye chanted, shaking her head in horror as she watched Ward all but slip away in front of her eyes. "Wake up, Robot. Come on, stay with me."

Ward murmured something unintelligible in response and, chewing on her lip in panic, Skye made a hasty decision. Screwing up her nose, she dug her index finger into the largest stab wound visible on Ward's shoulder, drawing a howl of pain from her former SO that would certainly bring Hydra's best running. However, the tactic had the desired effect and, overcome by pain once again, Ward was brought back to his senses.

"You enjoyed that..." he accused in a grunt, his eyes narrowed at Skye.

Skye shrugged in affirmation, "Little bit."

Ward dragged himself up to a standing position and, with Skye's help, the two shuffled toward an old fire exit located at the end of the hall. Though the doors were bound closed with a chain, the metal was almost rusted through, and Skye was confident that one kick would be more than enough to provide them with an escape path.

The sound of boots pounding the tiles suddenly caught both of their attention, and from out of nowhere six heavily armed Hydra guards ran toward them, weapons aimed.

"Stop!" their apparent leader commanded as two of his men dropped down onto one knee and adjusted their automatic rifles as if poised to open fire.

"Crap," Skye muttered under her breath, certain that she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.

She glanced down at her hand, realising that in the time it would take her to raise and aim her gun, she and Ward would both most likely be dead.

Ward too had obviously made the same deduction, and though in ordinary circumstances the odds would be stacked far more considerably in his favour, in his current weakened state he wouldn't last seconds against so many opponents.

Before either could react, two small metal discs skittered across the floor from behind them, exploding almost the second they reached the unprepared soldiers.

A blast of smoke concealed the men from view, but as Ward and Skye used the distraction to try to double back toward the other end of the hall, the sound of slow, measured footsteps approaching them from behind made Skye's blood run cold.

Ward blinked in confusion at the unlikely sight that met him, though his surprise soon turned to relief as he took in the black leather clad figure of the woman sauntering toward them. The young redhead stalked in an almost predatory manner down the hall, a cascade of curls tumbling down her back and an amused smirk tugging at her full lips.

Skye raised her gun at the stranger who shot her an expression that indicated boredom more than fear, and Ward hurriedly seized Skye's wrist and pulled her arm toward her side.

"Whoah, whoah, whoah!" he grasped her arm gently but firmly, and nodded apologetically at the newcomer, who simply rolled her eyes, "you do _not _want to do that. Trust me."

"Agent Ward," the woman nodded curtly at the man. Her eyes then briefly fell upon Skye, who was staring at her in confusion. Deciding that the young SHIELD agent presented no immediate threat, the redhead strolled past with an air of confidence that instantly reminded Skye of her own infamous SO, Melinda May.

"Agent Romanoff," Ward returned the greeting, leaning on the window ledge behind him as the burning pain in his chest made breathing intensely unpleasant.

Without uttering another word, Romanoff produced two guns from behind her back and began firing indiscriminately at the guards, who were yelling in obvious panic. The man coughed profusely as they inhaled large quantities of the gas still pervading the air around them.

Skye shook her head incredulously, "No! No way! That's Natasha Romanoff? The Black Widow?"

Ward consented to chuckle, regretting that action almost immediately as the motion jarred his broken ribs. "Yeah, and... you should probably fangirl from a safe distance because things are about to get messy in here."

He almost pitied the guards and the fate that was about to befall them. Almost.

"Should I, like, help?" Skye queried uncertainly, watching as Agent Romanoff dropped into a crouching position and her leg whipped out, sweeping the nearest guard off his feet. The man landed hard on his back, his weapon flying up into the air, and Romanoff shot out a hand to catch it deftly.

"I think she's got it," Ward answered, pressing his hand to his shoulder to staunch the renewed bleeding from the wound that Skye had buried her finger into.

"No way," Skye repeated in disbelief, her eyes impossibly wide and the quirk of her lips belaying her astonishment as she watched Romanoff take out the guards that filled the hallway without so much as breaking a mild sweat. When she had finished, the men lay sprawled haphazardly before them, some still evidently breathing and other perhaps not. Skye wasn't about to shed any tears over that one, however.

Letting out a sigh that was almost bored, Romanoff spun on her heel and sashayed back towards Skye and Ward, the former of which had yet to close her open mouth.

"You're welcome, Ward," the Avenger stated, laying one hand on her hip as she evaluated Ward's condition with a sweeping glance. She frowned as she watched him hug the wall for support before letting out a sigh and then sliding herself underneath his other arm.

"Come on, let's get your useless ass out of here," Romanoff barked, and Skye found herself immediately leaping to attention and ducking underneath Ward's other shoulder in order to take his weight.

"I was handling it..." Ward grumbled petulantly, clearly unimpressed at the turn the situation had taken.

"Oh you've been handled all right," Romanoff chuckled, shaking her head as Ward's pride reared its ugly head, as usual. "Should we just set you down over there and let you continue to 'handle it'?"

"You, what's your name?" Natasha nodded across at Skye, who seemed to gape like a goldfish as she floundered for an answer.

"Uh... Skye... ma'am," Skye replied, anticipating the arrival of an order somewhat warily.

"Skye, you wanna grab that?" Natasha nodded over toward an abandoned wheelchair, frowning as Ward dared to voice opposition to her plan by emitting an unamused groan.

"Hey," Natasha began testily, "I got pulled out of an op in Belize to stop Adolf and the boys here from crossing you off Fury's dance card. You wanna work with me here, Ward?!"

"Ma'am," Ward replied grudgingly, hating to admit that he felt instant relief the second he was seated in the worryingly rickety wheelchair. Skye instantly began pushing him down the hall with Black Widow walking at their side, efficiently and quickly dispatching any unfortunate guard who dared offer opposition.

Once they had reached the fire exit, one kick from Romanov was enough to send the chains splintering. She gazed up in relief at the sky, raising her wrist to her chin to speak into the communication device concealed beneath her sleeve.

"I have the package secured," she stated, raising both eyebrows as Ward glared up at her almost contemptuously.

"Package? I'm the _package?_"

"Nothing in my orders said I had to bring you back conscious," Romanoff warned, earning a smirk of amusement from Skye.

"I like her!" Skye enthused as she struggled to manoeuvre the wheelchair over the grass.

"You would..." Ward grumbled, hissing in pain as Skye ran over a bump in the terrain.

Skye ignored him pointedly, instead shooting a glance at Agent Romanoff, who strode at her side swinging her arms in a carefree manner as though they were going on a trip to the mall rather than attempting to escape a Hydra facility with a wounded man slowing them down.

"Can I... I mean... I just..." Skye began, wincing at her own lack of eloquence. Black Widow shot the younger woman a glance and nodded, not waiting for Skye to voice her question before she provided the response she was near certain was the one the other agent was looking for.

"I'm guessing Grant here spilled his guts to you back there," Romanoff stated rather than questioned.

"He may have mentioned something about Fury and... triple agents and... I zoned out somewhere at the end so that part is a little fuzzy but..." Skye mumbled, glancing from Romanoff to the back of Ward's head.

"And you're wondering if it's the truth or yet another tangled web of Nazi lies?" Natasha guessed, her hair suddenly whipping up around her shoulders as the sound of chopper blades roared to life around them.

"I did kind of shoot him..." Skye confessed, her expression suddenly sheepish at the memory. Romanoff actually smirked, her brows furrowing as she regarded Skye.

"There's not one of us who hasn't idly thought about doing that," she replied.

Ward suddenly found that he felt far too disorientated to respond, and his eyes fluttered closed mere moments before the SHIELD quinjet landed in a clearing to the side of the building.

"Ward?" Skye shook his arm gently, heightened panic evident in her voice as she called his name over and over.

Gunfire rang out from the roof of the hospital as the few remaining guards opened fire- fire that was instantly returned by Romanoff and the whirring gun turret of the jet.

Two heavily armed, kevlar attired SHIELD operatives ran from the plane and unceremoniously hauled Ward from the wheelchair before dragging him to the loading bay of the aircraft.

"Let's get out of here, boys and girls," Natasha commanded, using the few remaining seconds before she ran aboard the plane to take out a further two guards from an impressive distance.

Shooting a final glance at the abandoned asylum, crawling with hostile Hydra agents, Skye scrambled aboard the jet with the Black Widow following in her wake.

**x-x-x**

Skye swallowed hard and closed her eyes momentarily as Coulson slammed his fist down on the surface of his desk, overturning his pencil pot and sending stationary flying in multiple directions. Coulson's entire body was tense and his whole demeanour radiated fury and betrayal. Skye could hardly say she blamed the guy, and yet she hugged her arms around herself and took a small step backwards on instinct. As a child in the sometimes sketchy foster system, she had quickly learned to shy away from raised voices and disappointment, and old habits were hard to shake.

"How the hell could you make that call and just assume it would all turn out okay?" Coulson thundered, the vein in his temple pulsing madly. He slid one finger underneath the collar of his shirt and loosened his tie, leaving Skye concerned that he might actually be on the verge of a heart attack.

"What gave you the right to jeopardise the safety of everyone on this plane? My team? The people I have come to care about!"

He paused, as if listening to the unfortunate soul on the other end of the phone, yet his increasingly irritated expression gave Skye a clear impression that their words were falling on deaf ears.

"Oh, you what? That's bullshit!" Coulson thundered, "and you know what else it is?"

Finding that his level of rage now exceeded the brain capacity required for coherent thought, he simply echoed unapologetically, "It's... bullshit!"

Skye hid an amused smirk behind her hand and a feigned cough, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline as her boss slammed the telephone down onto the cradle with so much force that the desk rocked in protest.

Skye pursed her lips and clasped her hands together as she stared down diplomatically at the floor and awaited her reprimand. Two weeks after rescuing Ward from the Hydra base and Coulson was still not in a particularly 'cuddly' mood with his youngest agent.

"I spoke to Fury," Coulson stated, and Skye found it difficult to contain the somewhat snarky quip she felt bubbling up. Given the volume of Coulson's voice, it would have been difficult for anyone in their airspace to have not overheard the discussion.

"Yes, sir," Skye bobbed her head.

Coulson watched her intently, assuming his following words would provoke a certain response.

"He confirmed Ward's story," his chest rose as he inhaled deeply, "seems he was telling the truth. He was working as a triple agent... under Fury's command."

Skye couldn't help the small smile that briefly settled on her lips, and she glanced away shyly as she saw Coulson staring at her.

"I see," she replied. Unemotional, detached, a perfectly professional response. If only the blush that rose up her cheeks hadn't betrayed her.

"Don't think you're getting off easy on this, Agent Skye," Coulson snapped, raking one hand through his tousled hair and glaring at the young woman. "You disobeyed my direct orders, lied to your SO and stole SHIELD equipment to aid you in the rescue of a wanted fugitive."

"Borrowed," Skye mumbled, her gaze averted to the circular pattern on the carpet as she struggled to remain detached from the situation. She still regarded Coulson as a father figure and his obvious disappointment in her actions smarted considerably. However, given the opportunity again, Skye couldn't say that she would do anything different, save for perhaps coming across as marginally cooler in front of Black Widow.

"What did you say?" demanded Coulson, raising an eyebrow as he regarded Skye, who wisely chose to keep her lips pressed together.

After several seconds of tense silence, Coulson let out a sigh and sank back in his seat.

"You could have been killed, Skye," he lamented, his tone coloured with the emotion that he was fighting hard to disguise. "All for a man who you believed in your heart of hearts to be a liar, a murderer and a Nazi. What do you expect me to do with that? How do I justify your place on this plane to the people out there that you let down with your recklessness?"

"I... I don't know," Skye replied honestly, holding his gaze for a moment before she averted her eyes to her shoes.

Coulson sank back in his seat and sighed as he stared up at the ceiling of his office, clasping the arms of the chair in an obviously tense grip. Finally, he returned his gaze to Skye, who appeared as remorseful as he realised she was ever going to be on the subject.

"Get out of here," he flapped his hand toward the door, sighing once more for dramatic effect as he added, "and try to look slightly more ashamed and apologetic when you're talking to May. She might not be quite so understanding, okay?"

"Sir," Skye assented, chancing a smile that Coulson grudgingly returned.

As she turned on her heel to leave, her boss' voice stopped her in her tracks. When she regarded him, she couldn't help but be amused by the expression of childlike awe and excitement that was suddenly etched on his features.

"So Romanoff was there, huh?" he asked, his eyes almost lighting up at the mention of the infamous specialist. "Did you see her in action? She's really something, right?"

Skye's mouth fell open and for a moment they were both mutually geeking out.

"Oh my God, she's AWESOME!"

Her manic smile and dramatic hand gestures were soon accompanied by Coulson's own vigorous nodding and wide grin.

Suddenly thinking better of her initial response, Skye cleared her throat, "I mean... she's... very effective."

Coulson coughed gruffly, his expression sobering as he glared at Skye in the harshest manner he could muster.

"Back to work, Agent," he snapped, calling out as an afterthought as Skye retreated through the office doorway, "and you're grounded from the field for a month!"

As Skye closed the door with a quiet click, Coulson added loudly, "And you're on bathroom duty until I say otherwise."

Letting out the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, Skye rounded the corner and proceeded to the lounge with a sense of relief like no other overwhelming her. She threw herself down onto the couch and allowed her head to fall backwards, her eyes closing as she contemplated not for the first time her now very complex feelings towards Ward. Whilst she was undeniably both relieved and ecstatic that her former SO was neither a Hydra cheerleader or murdering psychopath, she could not seem to quash the intense rage that swept over her every time Ward so much as breathed in her direction. She still felt betrayed and used, but now for entirely different reasons. Ironically, when she had believed Ward to be a duplicitous madman, she had found him infinitely easier to understand. Now, after the reveal of his triple agent status, her mind was left reeling as she contemplated the true identity of the man behind the traitor behind the spy.

Suddenly sensing movement behind her, Skye opened one eye and regarded the agent standing before her with a curious mixture of irritation and affection.

"You mind if I join you?" Ward asked uncertainly, feeling ill at ease being on the bus again with a group of former friends who had been curiously annoyed at finding out he _hadn't_ betrayed them all.

Skye sat up and swung her feet back onto the floor as she gestured to the seat beside her, "Nope. In fact, you can help me clean the bathrooms later too. Hope you brought a toothbrush."

Ward's brow furrowed into a confused frown, but he sat down beside her and allowed his eyes to roam her face with poorly concealed adoration.

Skye caught his loaded gaze and shrank back in her seat as she waggled her finger at him in warning, "Oh, no. No you don't, mister. If you think we're just gonna pick up where we left off, then.. I... You know, just because you're not all 'grrrr' and evil and, okay so Hand was a Hydra plant and Koenig was a cyborg... robot... thing, that does not mean that you and I are going to... you know..."

Ward grinned, inching slightly closer and trying not to grimace as the movement disturbed his still healing ribs.

"Thank you," he said softly, completely sincerely.

"For what?" Skye asked, realising just how low her defenses slipped when Ward looked at her like that. Given the smirk plastered across his obnoxiously handsome face, she was certain he knew it too.

"For coming for me. Risking your life to save me," he stated, pleasantly surprised when a blush tainted her cheeks and she averted her gaze to her lap to pick at invisible threads on her shirt.

"Yeah, well I make poor choices," she retorted as she shrugged brightly, hoping to lighten the decidedly heavy mood, "that's actually how we met, remember?!"

Ward only smiled thinly but the light in his eyes told Skye that he would never allow himself to forget that moment, even if he lived to be a hundred.

"Look, Ward, I want to trust you, I really do, it's just..." Skye trailed off and the brief expression of hurt that crashed across her usually guarded features was enough for Grant to understand.

"Too much to ask right now," he finished, nodding his head in agreement. "I get it. I hope it won't always be this way but... I get it."

Skye watched without word as Ward climbed to his feet, one arm wrapped protectively around his aching ribs, and turned towards the direction of his bunk. However, before he reached the doorway, he spun around slowly to face Skye once again.

"Don't forget, you still owe me that drink, Rookie," he murmured quietly, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. Silently, Skye regarded her former SO, her expression unreadable.

Then she guffawed, loudly and without the slightest hint of elegance. She rocked back in her seat, clapping her hands in amusement as she dissolved into laughter.

"Tell me you didn't just use that line!?" she giggled, shaking her head in disbelief.

Ward's cheeks flushed bright red and he turned back to the doorway, scurrying off to his bunk with a telling crimson blush spreading up to the very tips of his ears. Skye only continued to laugh long after the door to Ward's bunk had slid shut. Slammed shut was probably a more accurate description.

With just the slightest hint of fondness present in her tone, Skye whispered to the closed door, "Asshole."


	2. Part Two - Still Life in Me

_**Part Two**_

'_**Still Life in Me'**_

_**April 1**__**st**__** 2019**_

_**Arlington, Virginia**_

Four years later they had been married for two, but perhaps most impressive of all was the fact that neither one of the Wards had been compelled during that time to kill the other. For the most part, they were happy.

Whilst many normal married couples would have begun discussing the matter of adding to their family at such a point, Grant and Skye instead discussed adding to the arsenal they kept in the basement. Sure, Grant was pretty certain, (after three rounds of expensive and intensive therapy), that he might actually like to give the whole 'fatherhood' thing a bash, but Skye wasn't quite at that point yet. She still craved the thrill of the occasional mission and Ward respected that, having resolved long before they had started dating never to push her into anything that she wasn't completely certain of. The prospect of being out in the field had long since lost its shine for Grant, but he had a few years on Skye yet and so he was content to wait for her to decide that she was done with that part of her life.

Ward's decision to resign from the field had been the catalyst behind their purchase of a house in Virginia, close to the Triskelion, where Grant worked vetting and training new recruits. He excelled at his job and he had finally begun to enjoy it again, relishing the fact that instead of delivering death, he was actually teaching others how to survive.

Skye had quickly climbed the ranks in SHIELD due to her extraordinary abilities with computers, and whenever there was a mission requiring a tech. specialist, Skye was always first to volunteer. Whilst she had made immense progress in learning how to fight and defend herself since her days of yelling 'bang' when she pulled the trigger, Skye had never quite managed to develop the kind of skill set required to become a Specialist. However, she seemed fine with this fact, relishing her work with the rebuilt SHIELD, especially since the team from the Bus appeared to have taken root at the Triskelion along with them.

For the time being, however - well, for the 45 minutes the recipe stated - Grant Ward was preoccupied with another matter entirely; dinner.

Grabbing a pot holder from the counter top beside him, he opened the oven and peered inside, smiling smugly to himself as a waft of delicious smelling steam pervaded his nostrils. Pressing his finger down carefully on the meat joint, he nodded in approval and estimated that by the time Skye walked through the door, their romantic anniversary dinner would be ready for the table.

Of course ,there was also the small issue of the Labrador puppy currently chewing on the large and very expensive bouquet of flowers that lay in the centre of said table.

Closing the oven hurriedly, Ward winced as he watched the rambunctious but entirely adorable creature chowing down on the head of an enormous yellow rose.

"Phil!" Ward shouted, gesturing for the dog to get down from the table - a command he pointedly ignored.

"Phil, do you want me to put you outside?" he threatened, lifting up the puppy, who happily wagged his tail and began to lavish slobbery licks across his master's cheek.

Ruffling the dog's ears despite his errant behaviour, Grant sighed as he set the dog back down onto the floor and began clearing up the scene of destruction before him. Thankfully some of the flowers had survived, and of course there was the diamond eternity band sitting in a black velvet box in his pocket.

Phil, or Phil Jnr. as he was officially called, simply sat back on his hind legs, tail thumping and head cocked to the side as he stared up with wide eyed adoration.

The dog had been entirely Skye's idea but Grant hadn't even pretended to resist, despite knowing beyond a doubt that he would be the one tasked with feeding and walking the newest addition to their family. He couldn't say that he really minded, and was even looking forward to the day that Phil would be mature and obedient enough to accompany him to work. Not that he had mentioned that particular proposition to Skye. He felt that it would be a notion best approached the morning he loaded the dog into the back seat of the car, wearing the Avengers collar that Grant secretly had on order on Amazon.

Grant was pulled from his reverie by the sound of the telephone trilling from its position in the centre of the kitchen island. He paused only long enough to shoot the puppy what he hoped was a suitably stern expression.

"You behave," he instructed, hurrying to the kitchen to snatch up the receiver before the caller disconnected.

When he lifted the phone to his ear, the first thing he noted was the poor quality of the line.

"Hello?" he inquired as he crouched down next to the oven, peering through the glass window in the door as he attempted to gauge the progress of the meal.

"Ward?"

Immediately a smile blossomed on Ward's lips as he recognised his wife's voice.

"Hey Ward," he countered, amusement colouring his tone. It had become practice for the couple whenever one was making contact from the field that they would refer to each other by surname alone in order to reduce the chances of the other partner becoming identifiable. However, it was a joke that never failed to amuse Grant, who still could hardly believe that Skye had ever suffered such an enormous lapse of good judgement and consented to marry him. The fact that he had proposed with a bullet lodged in his thigh might have had something to do with it, but Ward preferred to think that it was the power of true love alone.

"I don't have much time," she began urgently, "Cooper's dead. I've been made."

Grant felt the air forcibly expelled from his lungs, and he ran his hand through his hair as he began to pace the kitchen.

"Where are you? Are you hurt?"

He heard her voice waver for a moment, and he called her name again to hurry her response. Skye's tone was urgent and betrayed her obvious state of panic.

"I'm okay, I'm... I'm locked in one of the main server rooms at TriCore. Cooper held them off long enough for me to finish the download and get out of the control centre, but it's just a matter of time before they find me. I..." she paused, and Ward could hear the sound of heavy boots against a hard floor in the background. When Skye spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper, "I just... I love you, okay?"

He stopped dead in his tracks, jaw set as he stared at the roses lying on the table and crooked his ring finger to turn the thin, gold wedding band towards the light.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming for you."

"What? No! Ward, this place is crawling with Hydra assholes, please... I..."

"Skye, this isn't up for discussion," he countered, hastily turning off the oven as he marched into the dining room and removed a large mirror from the wall to expose a concealed safe.

Punching in a familiar set of digits, he opened the door to reveal an impressive arsenal of weaponry and gadgets. Most, if not all, had originated in a SHIELD lab and had accompanied him on various missions across the globe.

"Ward... Please..." she insisted, her tone becoming more desperate and her breathing growing erratic. "It's suicide."

"Just stay on the line as long as you can," he replied, his voice calm and measured despite the undercurrent of panic coursing through his veins. His heart was hammering with such intensity that it felt like it was trying to wrench itself from his chest, but Ward's hands were steady as he removed a couple of grenades, a handgun and a wicked looking black handled knife from the recesses of the safe.

"You know, I was in the middle of cooking your favourite," he stated, striving to remember his training and just compartmentalise the hell out of the situation to keep the fear from his voice. "Even got you flowers. Phil chewed on them a little but they're still pretty."

Placing the weapons into a black bag, which he slung over his shoulder, Ward wasted no time in ushering the puppy out into the yard, before closing and locking the screen door. He was half way to the front door when he heard Skye gasp loudly and his blood ran cold in his veins in response.

"Skye, what is it?" he demanded, slamming the front door behind himself and now not bothering with the formality of locking it in his haste.

When Skye replied, her voice was small and shaking, "Ward... I'm scared."

Holding his cell phone to his ear against his shoulder, he shot a glance at his watch, "I'll be there in fifteen. I'm putting you on speaker phone. Keep talking. You keep talking to me, Skye, okay?"

Throwing the duffel bag into the back seat, Ward stabbed the speaker button on the phone and rested it on the passenger seat as he strapped on a kevlar vest and buckled a sheathed dagger to his ankle.

Barely seconds later and the car was pulling out of the driveway at speed, sending a cloud of gravel and dirt up into the air, which reigned down over their very suburban looking mail box like a hail of bullets.

"Hey, you know I think Phil's almost getting the sitting thing," Ward informed his wife, trying desperately to hold her attention. Although Skye's years with SHIELD had made her resourceful and calm in an emergency, being trapped in the hub of a major tech. corporation who were a front for Hydra's latest scheme for global mayhem would have made even the most seasoned agent panic.

"I know what you're doing," Skye replied, an irritated frown evident in her voice. Ward found himself powerless to prevent a smile as he imagined the sour look on her face, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Is it working?" he checked, wincing as the tyres of the car squealed as he rounded a bend at an inappropriate speed. He tossed a cursory glance in the rear view mirror to ensure he hadn't attracted the attention of any passing cops, before pressing his foot against the gas pedal when he found the road behind him deserted.

"I..." Skye began, tailing off as a noise that Ward assumed was some sort of small controlled explosion dominated the line from her end.

"Skye!" he called out frantically, almost dropping the cell as he was forced to swerve the car to avoid a Jeep that had been in the process of pulling out of a concealed driveway. Ward hardly had time to wait and he barely even noticed the Jeep's horn blaring as the driver protested the near miss. His mind was entirely focused on his wife, and Ward found himself impulsively calling out her name again as he recognised the distinct sounds of a fight ensuing.

He gritted his teeth as someone yelled out 'you little bitch', although he realised that the slur meant that Skye must have been gaining the upper hand against her opponent. His optimism was shattered, however, when he heard a distinctly female cry of pain followed by silence.

"Skye?" he whispered, despising how helpless he sounded. Louder and more insistently he shouted, "Agent Ward! Skye?"

Grant was overwhelmed with nausea as the line clicked and an evidently male voice responded in amusement, "She's busy."

Dropping the phone down onto the passenger seat, Ward pressed his foot on the gas pedal, swerving in and out of the traffic at a frightening speed. He could still hear shouting and a commotion emanating from the phone, but at least that meant that for the time being Skye was still alive.

He reached the offices of TriCore in less than the fifteen minutes he had allotted, killing the engine outside the impressive looking skyscraper that Skye was currently being held in.

Exiting the car, Ward marched purposefully toward the revolving door, armed to the hilt with a plethora of handguns, stun grenades, knives and other SHIELD paraphernalia that would have made Romanoff green with envy.

"Sir? Sir, you can't go through there!" the building concierge shouted, watching as the stranger strolled through the foyer and ignored his frantic calls.

Turning rapidly, Ward grabbed the stunned receptionist around the collar and lifted the man a good few inches from the floor.

"Things are about to get pretty interesting in here so if I were you, I'd beat it. Understand?"

The man choked on his warnings, his eyes bulging as he peered down into Ward's face. A pair of brown eyes narrowed in absolute rage locked with his, and the concierge could only nod dumbly. Ward released his lapels and the man tumbled to the ground. After the agent had stepped over him, he wasted no time in scrambling for the revolving door, all allegiances to his employers having long since abandoned him.

Ward eyed the elevators warily, realising that there was a good chance that he had already been spotted on the security cameras that lined the foyer. There was too great a chance that the power to the elevators could be killed whilst he was still in there, and so instead he set out purposefully towards the stairwell that was tucked away from public view.

The sign at the bottom of the stairs informed him that the main server rooms could be found on the 25th floor, and Ward let out a loud, guttural string of curses. He could make the climb without breaking a sweat but it would slow him down significantly, and perhaps mean the difference between life and death for his wife. Wasting no more time debating the situation, Ward took off running up the first flight of steps, his head bowed and his teeth gritted in determination.

The stairwell was mercifully empty, allowing Ward to make it up to the floor the server rooms were located on. He paused as he finally reached the steel, reinforced door, and removed one of his handguns from his shoulder holster, which had been concealed by a jacket he had discarded a few floors below.

A door opening above caused Ward to curse under his breath, and he listened as the sound of women's stiletto heels striking the steps echoed around him. Removing his phone from his pocket, Ward struck up an imaginary conversation that he hoped would explain his loitering in the stairwell.

Concealing his gun behind his back, Ward leaned casually against the wall, "Look, sweetie I told you, I can't come over tonight. No... I... Cindy's gonna start asking questions and..."

The blonde shot him a thoroughly disapproving glare before quickening her pace and disappearing down the next flight of stairs.

Ward grimaced as he jammed his phone back into his pocket before returning his attention to the door that was now the only thing standing between him and probably a dozen Hydra soldiers. He lifted the metal bar holding the door closed and wasted no more time before bursting out into the hallway with both guns drawn in readiness.

He blinked in surprise when he found the long, narrow corridor to be entirely devoid of life, but he pressed his back against the wall and crept as stealthily as possible along the hall. He had been delayed long enough and his anxiety for Skye's safety was mounting by the second.

Ward paused as the sound of raised voices and glass smashing reached his ears. He felt the muscles in his lower jaw and neck tensing on impulse, and he forced his heart rate to slow to a more normal level. He could almost feel the familiar sensation of adrenaline rushing through his veins, and he intended to use it to the best of his ability once the time was right.

He walked toward the end of the hallway, to another similarly heavy metal door, this time locked with a control panel positioned on the wall beside it. Retrieving a credit card shaped device from his pocket, Grant jammed it into the key card lock and watched impatiently as the red digital display scrambled quickly through a series of numbers before finally flashing green. Ward gripped the door handle and was relieved to find it opened, yet the sight that met him immediately negated that particular feeling.

Three men and one woman, all clad in standard issue Hydra uniforms, were busily swinging punches and kicks at his already battered and bloodied wife. Skye was attempting to fight them off admirably, but Ward assumed an order to take her alive for interrogation was the only reason she was still breathing.

The bodies of two other Hydra agents lay on the ground, one slumped against a sparking, smoking wall of electronics, the other groaning with that looked very much like a broken wrist and a nose gushing blood.

Ward stepped into the doorway unnoticed, and it was only when he spoke that he suddenly found five equally surprised pairs of eyes affixed upon him.

"This a private party or can anybody join in?" he called, staring evenly at the Hydra soldiers. He noted with a shred of satisfaction how one of the men stared up at him with just a hint of fearful recognition in his eyes.

"Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting," the woman snarled, her lips curled and her eyes narrowed at Ward. He noted the taser she gripped in her left hand and made a mental note to disarm her as soon as possible.

"Ain't that...?" one of the men began, his thick Southern drawl causing the corners of Ward's lips to twitch in threat of an uncharacteristic smile.

"Fury's bitch?" the woman finished, "you bet."

"I'm sure going to enjoy cutting into that pretty face of his," the burly guy closest to Skye growled. Ward noted how his wife's gaze ticked immediately to the man's face and he knew that he would be the first one that Skye took out given the opportunity.

"She must be important," the woman continued, tossing her head in Skye's direction momentarily, "if SHIELD sent you in here to get her. We thought she was just some lousy hacker but now... I'm gonna look forward to interrogating her when you're cold. Can't wait to make her scream."

"Rude..." Skye commented, her tone dripping with sarcasm, although Ward could detect an undercurrent of exhaustion there.

Before Skye had even had a chance to turn her head back in her husband's direction, Ward had raised both hands and deposited a bullet in the foreheads of two of the operatives, courtesy of the pistols he clutched in each hand. Ward's expression remained impassive, but it was a cold, calculated and devastatingly precise move that suddenly made the SHIELD Specialist's odds more appealing.

The female soldier wasted no time in tackling Grant, launching a roundhouse kick at him that succeeded in knocking one of the guns out of his hand. Ward landed a heavy elbow into her face, sending her stumbling backwards with less grace and composure than he'd have expected from a supposedly highly trained operative.

Skye noted further frenzied movement from the hallway, and her stomach lunged in dread as she saw four more Hydra guards heading toward them.

Glancing urgently at Ward, she found him with the remaining man in a headlock, his arm pressed menacingly into the throat of the soldier. Ward kicked the man's knees from behind and he crumbled to the ground. The Specialist stepped deftly in front of his opponent and rammed the end of his remaining pistol into the man's temple. He keeled over almost instantly, joining the rapidly growing pile of bodies that accumulating in the room.

Skye picked up Ward's handgun from the floor and trained it at the doorway, unaware that the female operative was finally coming to her senses and was approaching her from behind. As Ward turned to hasten their departure, the blonde pressed the nozzle of a gun into Skye's cheek and stared up at the former triple agent with a smirk tugging at her lips.

"I'm guessing she's not just important to SHIELD," the woman purred, pausing to spit blood onto the floor before returning her eyes to Ward's face, "I'm guessing she's important to you too."

"So much unnecessary dialogue..." Skye ground out through gritted teeth. The woman chuckled and, before the analyst could react, she slammed the butt of the gun into the side of her face. Skye grunted in pain but did not react beyond that, unwilling to give the operative that held her by the throat even the slightest hint of satisfaction.

Ward struggled to maintain a neutral expression, all the while listening to the sounds of the guards drawing closer. Anything he gave away could only be used against them, and so he betrayed nothing, the set of his lips determined.

"SHIELD aren't dumb enough to send in a one man extraction team," the woman snarled, tightening her grip around Skye's neck and evidently cutting off her oxygen to a degree, "I don't care who you are or how good you are."

Skye clawed at the larger woman's arm, her eyes widening as she struggled to suck in oxygen.

"You came in here because you couldn't stay away," the woman reasoned, a slightly maniacal grin twisting her bloodstained lips. "So, what is it? A friends with benefits kind of deal?"

Ward's eyes ticked back to the door and he realised that his time had all but run out as he watched the guards swarm through the first doorway. He turned back to the two women, a small but significant smile on his face as his eyes locked with Skye's. After four years together, he could read what was written there even without the exchange of words.

"That's my wife," Ward replied coolly, expression even as he added, "and you just pissed her off."

The woman's smirk faltered for just a moment and, in a move that Ward had painstakingly taught her in the basement of their home, Skye flung her head backwards so that in connected with the woman's nose. The blow had the desired effect and the woman loosened her grip enough for Skye to spin out of her reach, her eyes triumphant despite the bruise that she had doubtlessly earned for her trouble.

Ward felt a surge of pride but he pushed it back down as the first of the guards descended upon them, weapon readied. Ward evaded the nozzle of the rifle just in time, and the shot that went off embedded itself into the wall across the room.

Aiming his own weapon, he took out one of the guards, depositing a bullet in the shoulder of the blonde for good measure.

"You remember Berlin?" he asked Skye pointedly. She paused for a moment before suddenly nodding.

Ward yanked the two stun grenades from his pocket and, just as Skye had watched Romanoff do all those years before, her husband activated the devices then skimmed them across the floor. The guards looked down from the barrel of their guns only long enough to stumble back in surprise, and as the grenades exploded, a shroud of fog filled the air.

Skye yelped as she felt a hand land on her arm and Ward propelled her toward the exit, stopping only to retrieve one of the automatic weapons laying next to an unconscious guard.

He turned toward the haze of mist and opened fire without a moment's thought, unleashing a rain of bullets that just about aptly demonstrated his anger.

"Ward, let's go," Skye instructed, gazing up at the ceiling as a familiar hum caught her attention, and she pointed upwards, "we need to get up there!"

It took only a moment for Grant to recognise the sound of the SHIELD helicopter hovering, and he could only guess as to who they'd sent in to retrieve Skye. May rarely took a field missions these days, although an exception might have been made for her former student. But if Ward were a betting man, he'd guess that the bangs, crashes, and thuds now coming from the floor above them meant that the unsuspecting guards were being formally introduced to the Mockingbird.

"If they hadn't sent someone for me, I'd have been so pissed," Skye muttered, wincing as her lip burned and she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth leaving a smear of blood on her skin.

Rapid gunfire just a short distance away halted their steps and, with both of them training their guns on the empty corridor before them, the couple edged toward the fire escape.

Ward threw open the door and rounded the corner, his gun extended in preparation if the need arose. However, he found the stairwell empty and didn't hesitate to seize Skye's hand as he started to mount the steps two at a time. He could hear her breathing hard behind him and knew that she was pushing her body to its limits in order to make their escape, but there was no time to pause, as the fire door below them was flung against the wall and a pair of soldiers thundered in their wake.

"Shit..." Ward cursed, pausing on the stairs as he heard the door from the floor above open and realised that there would soon be more guards upon them. He shot a glance at Skye who only nodded determinedly in response before adopting a more defensive pose.

"There is no chance that we're having dinner tonight, is there?" she lamented, shaking her head sadly. Ward only shot her a grin, amazed once again by how his wife ordered her priorities.

He greeted the first of the guards with a vicious punch to the side of his head as Skye simultaneously tripped the first of her approaching assailants by kicking his ankle. The man went down hard, wide eyes belaying his surprise at having been taken down by a mere analyst, and he cried out as he rolled down the remaining stairs. Ward broke the neck of the first guard, his patience having finally run out with the whole blasted facility, but he wasn't quite as fortunate with the second, who managed to rain a series of brutal punches down on him before he had time to counter them.

The man was almost a head taller than Ward and at least fifty pounds of sheer muscle heavier. Ward dropped to a crouching position and swept his leg out in an arc, attempting to knock the man's legs from under him, but he simply jumped over Ward's boot with ease before grabbing a fistful of his vest and using it to haul Ward to his feet. The guy slammed Grant's back painfully against the wall and he let out a groan, blinking to clear his vision as it grew hazy. Ward could hear the sounds of a fight raging mere feet away but the next moment the soldier's fist connected with his windpipe and he was certain he would have crumpled had he not been suspended above the floor.

"Ward!" Skye cried frantically, and his head whipped around to the best of his ability just in time to see his wife attempt to rush to his aid, only to be grabbed from behind by the soldier she had been fighting. Ward opened his mouth to call out a warning that he instead choked on, seeing the familiar glint of a blade in the light cast from the fluorescent stairwell bulbs.

The soldier buried the small knife to the hilt in Skye's side just above the hip, and she let out a sharp gasp of pain as her hand found the wall to prevent herself from tumbling down the stairs.

Possessed by blind fury, Ward brought up his knee and struck his assailant hard in the groin, suddenly releasing a series of furious punches that connected with the man's chest and face. Ward felt a rib crack under his fist and the man doubled over in agony, leaving the SHIELD Specialist to deal with the guy now lunging at him with a short, thin blade in his hand.

"Are you okay?" he shouted to Skye, and she managed a brief nod of affirmation as she pressed a palm against the bleeding wound and gritted her teeth.

The man lunged at Ward, who grabbed his wrist and used his arm to land a powerful blow to this throat. Twisting his wrist in an unnatural direction, Ward snapped his arm to the side, relishing the accompanying howl of pain that followed. Yet still Ward continued to unleash his anger in a torrent of punches that left the soldier raising his hands over his head in a vein attempt to shield himself from the blows.

Seizing the advantage, Ward grabbed him around the neck and slammed him into the wall, using one arm to hold the man in place as he pressed the blade of his own knife into his side.

Skye watched wide-eyed, noting the decidedly wild and dangerous expression on her husband's face, and how his eyes had darkened to the point that his irises were no longer visible. Ward barely ever lost control- he had been conditioned and trained almost to the point of being dehumanised- but when he did, Skye couldn't imagine a more deadly adversary.

"You're SHIELD," the man rasped, his chest burning with the effort of each breath. He struggled just to inhale as he found himself ensnared in the younger man's vice-like grip, "You're the good guys, you won't kill me."

A small smile of triumph briefly settled on his features, yet it disappeared almost as quickly as Ward snarled a response into his ear.

"I might be one of the good guys, but you stabbed my wife... all bets are off."

Seconds later Ward plunged the blade into the man's side in a tit-for-tat gesture that extracted a scream of anguish from the soldier. With a final heavy handed push, Ward released his prisoner over the side of the stair railings and the man hit the ground below with a heavy thud.

Skye closed her eyes, finding herself growing increasingly disorientated. She barely protested when a pair of strong arms lifted her up, and the sense of relief she felt minutes later when the sun's rays were suddenly on her face was overwhelming.

"I'm fine..." she insisted, hissing as Ward began to run across the roof and the movement jostled her wounded side.

"Liar," Ward accused, although his tone lacked malice or conviction. He added softly, "And not a very good one, Agent Ward."

The SHIELD helicopter hovered almost uncertainly above the landing pad located on the top of the building, and Ward realised with a sinking heart that it would not risk directly touching down, lest the pad be in some way booby trapped. An operative sitting in a control booth somewhere in the building could easily trigger an explosion from a safe distance, especially given the security cameras positioned at various points around the rooftop. Ward almost growled in frustration, his anger rising irrationally, although he knew that the pilot was making the same call that he would were their roles reversed.

"We'll be out of here soon," Ward assured Skye, his grip on her tightening as he heard the second door to the rooftop being thrown open. He wheeled around as quickly as possible, hoping not to disturb Skye too much, only to find Mockingbird running towards them at full pelt, her long golden blonde hair billowing out behind her in the wind.

"Incoming!" she yelled in warning before throwing herself down on the ground and ducking behind an air conditioning pipe. Ward barely had time to throw himself and Skye onto the ground, crouching low next to Bobbi, before more soldiers poured out of the doorway from which she had exited.

"This day just keeps on giving," Ward snarled, watching as the helicopter abruptly veered away from the building and disappeared. He wasn't too worried about that particular event, as he knew that it would likely be circling the building and hovering a little lower in order to avoid any gunfire until the agents on the rooftop had managed to dispel the threat.

"Happy anniversary," Bobbi quipped wryly, ducking a little lower as a bullet whizzed past her ear. "I'd have stopped to get you a card but..."

"Make sure we live to see next year's, and call it even?" Skye offered her friend a weak smile, which Bobbi accepted with a confident shrug.

"Please, I have this all under control," she stated, suddenly unclipping another two handguns from behind her back, one of which she passed to Ward, "Skye, you might want to sit this out!"

"Oh," Skye held up her bloodied hand and shook her head, "I am more than okay with that."

Ward accepted the gun from Bobbi but rested it briefly in his lap, pausing to remove a small tube from a zip at the side of his vest. He gently lifted Skye's shirt and blew out a relieved breath as he examined the knife wound, finding it to be mercifully not in a place likely to have caused significant damage. Removing the cap of the tiny tube with his teeth, he glanced apologetically at his wife as he pressed the edges of her skin together and squeezed the tube to deposit the gel into the wound. Skye hissed and looked away quickly, her vision swimming and a wave of nausea rising from the pit of her stomach. Ward noted that the skin around her ribs was coloured several impressive shades of purple, but that would have to wait for the time being.

He carefully pulled her shirt back down and placed her hand gently atop of her side again, tangling his fingers in her hair and craning his neck to brush his lips against her forehead.

"Be careful," Skye warned fearfully, lifting her hand to his cheek and wincing as she leant forward to press a desperate kiss against his lips.

"Always," Ward replied, before shooting a look at Bobbi, who was rolling her eyes.

"So, I figure we destroy the stairwell then deal with these clowns before catching our ride out of here," Bobbi explained, rummaging quickly in the pocket of her vest and producing two hand grenades. Ward nodded, faintly impressed with the other agent's forward thinking, and plucked one of the small grenades from her palm. He recognised them immediately as the prototype that FitzSimmons had developed in the Triskelion labs. They had explained to him at great, excitable length how the resultant blast would be powerful enough to take down walls without compromising the integrity of an entire structure, and Ward found himself thankful for that particular science lesson, no matter how inconvenient it had been at the time.

"On three?" Ward checked, earning a nod from Bobbi.

"One," she commented, a smile twitching on her lips.

"Two," Ward immediately echoed, pausing himself in readiness to spring from their hiding place before the Hydra soldiers moved too close to their location.

However, Bobbi neglected to call out their final cue, instead grinning as she back flipped from behind the vent and landed in front of a soldier, who she promptly knocked out with a swiftly delivered fist to the side of the head. He crumpled and Ward groaned in annoyance.

"You need to learn to count, Morse!" he yelled, spinning out from behind the vent and dropping a second soldier with a well placed bullet to the kneecap.

Kicking the injured man's automatic rifle from his hands, Ward picked it up and took aim at the four Hydra guards who were running toward them. Gunfire rang out across the rooftop, and the helicopter veered away to avoid being hit by the fire that was briefly returned, before all four men dropped to the ground. One of the soldiers stirred, trying to sit up to take aim at the enemy again. However, a final shot rang out and the man fell backwards against his comrades as Ward lowered his handgun.

Bobbi paused, hand on hip, shooting Ward an incredulous glare that he deflected with a shrug, "And where was the fun in that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Felt good to me," Ward replied, consenting to finally smile as Bobbi huffed in displeasure and then focused her attention on the grenade in her hands.

"We need those cameras down," she said, gesturing toward the four CCTV cameras that were positioned around the helipad. "I'll deal with the stairwell."

"On it," Ward stated, wasting no time in raising the rifle to his shoulder as he held one of the cameras in his sight and prepared to take aim. Four well placed shots was all it took to disable the cameras, and Ward almost beamed as he imagined the outrage of whoever was monitoring the feed as their screens were all rendered useless. His rage was so intense, perhaps partially fuelled by the Berserker strength that lay latent in his body, that Ward would quite happily have stormed the building a second time, refusing to rest until every Hydra footsoldier that lurked within had been put down, permanently. However, Grant was no fool and he knew when to call time, and when to extract himself and his team from a bad situation.

"Done," he called over his shoulder before tossing the now empty rifle aside and turning on his heel. His eyes were drawn to the second rooftop exit, where Bobbi was crouched down with her back to the door and her fingers in her ears. Seconds later an explosion sounding from within, soon accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of falling rubble and pained human screams. Ward shot a glance at the first doorway and that was all he needed to glean that Bobbi had already dealt with that avenue of escape. The smoke wafting from underneath the buckled metal door was as good an indication as any.

Ward watched in relief as the SHIELD helicopter began to approach the building again, and he waved one arm wildly above his head to signal that any threat that the cameras had presented had now been neutralised. The pilot signalled back with a sloppy salute and Ward rolled his eyes, finally beginning to come down from his adrenaline high and realising that his entire body was throbbing.

"Someone order a taxi for the Wards?" Bobbi inquired, sidling up to Grant as she slipped her guns back into the holsters and tossed her now wild hair over her shoulder.

Needing no further invitation, Ward retrieved his injured wife and helped her limp unsteadily toward the waiting helicopter. Bobbi remained behind on the rooftop until the other two agents were safely aboard, before she joined them and the chopper lifted off in the direction of safety.

Skye dropped her head back against the wall and released a shaky breath, feeling the familiar and wholly irritating sting of tears begin to burn her eyes. Bobbi averted her gaze as Ward wrapped his arms around his wife, and she nestled into his body whilst his fingertips combed through her hair. It was a curious sight given the clinical, cold-blooded actions Bobbi had witnessed Ward carry out only minutes before, but it was no secret that Skye was capable of bringing out a whole other side of the man.

"You came for me," Skye whispered into his neck, closing her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. Ward's grip on her tightened, and she felt his breath ghost her earlobe as he inclined his head to reply.

"I'll always come for you, Skye," he promised, "I'll always find you, and I'll always bring you home."

Skye nodded, sniffing back her tears to the best of her ability, although she could still feel the heavy weight of her frantic emotions in the centre of her chest.

"Are you alright?" Ward inquired again, and this time Skye knew that he was referencing her physical wellbeing rather than psychological.

Again Skye bobbed her head silently, not trusting her voice not to crack and betray her should she attempt to give a more in depth answer. Ward frowned and reached forward, his fingers gently cupping her chin as he inclined Skye's face towards the light, his eyes analytically sweeping her impressive collection of cuts and bruises.

"You did well, holding your own like that," Bobbi said finally and reached out to rest a hand on Skye's arm, her voice warm and her eyes betraying her concern, "not many analysts would have made it out of there, Skye. You should be proud of yourself."

"When we land, you're going to medical," Ward stated firmly in his best, commanding 'SHIELD instructor' voice. And for once, Skye did not argue, simply rested her head back against his shoulder and allowed the steady thrum of the helicopter blades alongside the rhythmic beating of Ward's heart to soothe her.

**x-x-x**

Stretching out her aching muscles, Skye wriggled her toes underneath the crisp cotton sheets and lay back against the mound of pillows behind her. Threading her fingers together over her abdomen, she let out a heavy sigh and then promptly winced as the action caused the fresh sutures in her side to burn.

"You know," she began, sensing a familiar presence in the doorway, "I kind of hoped we'd spend our anniversary in bed... but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

Ward chuckled, depositing a tray down onto the table beside her that was laden with an array of Chinese take-out boxes. Instead of the customary champagne, Ward had filled two crystal stem glasses with sparkling grape juice in light of the strong painkillers his wife had been given by the doctors back at the Triskelion. Their demand that she take things easy - echoed vehemently by Coulson, who had appeared at her side immediately upon their arrival - was proving more difficult to enforce.

Ward shook his head, leaning forward on his hands to press a kiss against her lips, "We're just glad you're home safe. Aren't we, buddy?"

He directed his gaze to the sleepy puppy curled up at Skye's side. The dog stretched languidly as Ward ruffled the fur on his belly, and he kicked his stubby legs as he struggled to roll over closer to his mistress.

Skye grinned as the puppy let out a yawn, and she stroked his floppy ears between her fingers as she simultaneously reached up and placed her hand to Ward's cheek.

"My handsome boys," she murmured, peering up at her husband affectionately. He brushed his lips against the centre of her palm in response and rested his hand over hers.

She sucked in a breath before softly offering, "I'm sorry I ruined our anniversary."

Ward shook his head with a frown, seating himself at Skye's side before swinging his legs up onto the bed. He took a moment to settle her against his chest, mindful of her injuries, before dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.

"You didn't ruin a thing," he insisted, his mind drifting ruefully to the leg of lamb still stewing in its icy cold juices in the oven. He had been forced to improvise on the way back from the Triskelion and had stopped by the only open take-out to order whatever was left over in the kitchen.

"Grant, I saw all your hard work," Skye said quietly, shaking her head as she added, "I should have turned that mission down when it landed on my desk this morning. I knew what today was, I knew..."

"Hey, enough," Ward instructed firmly, the grimace he wore evident in his voice.

"I was so stupid," Skye whispered, shaking her head and peering down at her left hand, where her engagement and wedding rings nestled side by side.

"You wanted to prove yourself," Ward replied, laying his own left hand over Skye's and interlocking their fingers gently, "that's understandable. But you've more than done that already, Skye, from the moment you stepped on the Bus five years ago. Don't be afraid to accept help when you need it; it doesn't make you weak... I learned that the hard way, mostly thanks to you."

"You saved my life," she said quietly as she tilted her head back to hold his gaze, "I guess 'thank you' seems kind of lame."

Ward arched an eyebrow, inhaling slowly as he ran his fingertips up and down her uninjured side and tried not to dwell on the 'might have beens'.

"Purely selfish reasons, I promise."

He kissed her temple and then rested his chin lightly on the top of her head as she smiled at his inference and swept her palm over his chest.

"I never thought I could be this happy... that I deserved any of this," he confessed, scanning their bedroom and taking in the thoroughly domestic scene before him in evident disbelief, "I know now what it feels like to love someone... I mean really love someone, and to know that they love me back for everything I am- the good and the bad. I'll be damned if I'll ever let anyone take you away from me."

"You_ are_ a good man, Grant," Skye insisted, turning his face to hers, "and there's a whole lot more good in you than there is bad. But you're right about one thing, I do love you, more than anything."

She blushed at her admission, still finding talking about her emotions to be a difficult and wholly uncomfortable task. But it was something she was willing to work on, for him.

The slow, tender kiss she received in response assisted in making her discomfort disappear, and she found herself gazing up at her husband with evident adoration. They settled back against the headboard, and an easy silence descended upon them as they simply sat content in each other's company.

"I don't envy Coulson tonight," Ward stated darkly, his thoughts suddenly drifting to their boss and the heartbreaking house-call he would have already made that night.

Andrew Cooper was a former marine and a fairly new recruit to SHIELD. He and his fiancé had recently purchased their first home together, and he had regaled the team with so many stories and anecdotes about her that they had been in little doubt as to just how utterly besotted the young couple were with each other. Cooper had been an honourable and affable man who the whole team had instantly taken to, and news of his death had greatly saddened all who knew him.

Skye swallowed hard, her mind drifting back to the moment that it had all gone to Hell that afternoon, and a Hydra operative had stumbled upon them, before proceeding to shoot Cooper in the chest at close range. He had survived the shot only long enough to instruct Skye to run and press his communicator into her hand. She had panicked and wavered, wondering if she could attempt to drag the man to safety somewhere within the building, but he had breathed his last stuttering breath before Skye had even managed to rest her hand on his arm.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Grant whispered, as though reading his wife's mind, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek.

Skye shook her head and let out a weary sigh, "No, it's okay. I know it wasn't my fault. I just... I wish it hadn't gone down like it did is all."

"If I had a nickel for every operation I wish hadn't gone down the way it did," Grant stated wryly, "we'd be sipping cocktails on a beach in Maui right now."

The couple remained silent for a few moments more, the only sound to permeate the dimly lit bedroom being Phil's soft canine snores. Eventually, the antique grandfather clock chimed from the hallway, heralding the arrival of midnight, and Ward dug around in his back pocket until he felt his fingers close around the jewelry box concealed there.

"Well," he began, peering intently at Skye, who glanced up the moment she heard his voice, "our anniversary is officially over, so I guess I can give you your gift now or I could just save it until next year."

"Well that would be incredibly mean, especially since I'm injured and all," she sniffed, her attention suddenly caught by the small, black velvet box that sat in his outstretched hand. Presents were something of a novelty to Skye, considering her childhood spent as an orphan had meant she had never really received an abundance of them.

Skye cocked her head, reaching out uncertainly toward the box and shifting her gaze between the item and her husband's coaxing smile.

"Did you have Fitz make me tracker earrings or something? A stun grenade pendant?"

"No, but now I know what to get you for your birthday," he retorted, arching a dark eyebrow and gesturing to the box, clearly impatient to see her reaction, "open it."

Biting down on her bottom lip, Skye opened the jewelry box and her mouth instantly dropped open in both surprise and delight.

"Oh my God, it's beautiful!" she gasped, her eyes shining as she stared down at the diamond eternity band nestled among a white satin interior.

The smile that blossomed on her face as Ward gently took hold of her left hand made his stomach dip. He brushed his thumb over her wedding band and engagement ring, and found himself mirroring her smile.

"This goes... _here_," he stated, slipping the ring onto her finger to sit snugly above her wedding band.

"Look at me, all blinged out!" Skye giggled, examining her finger as the diamonds glinted and sparkled in the shafts of light cast by the bedside lamp.

"Well, I do have an ulterior motive," Ward admitted, leaning down and initiating a gentle, almost tentative kiss, despite the hunger in his eyes. Skye smiled against his lips and pressed one palm into his chest, smoothing her thumb over the fabric of his t-shirt.

"And what's that, Agent Ward?" she inquired, amusement dancing behind her eyes as she smirked up at her husband, who gazed down at her with such devotion that her breath almost hitched in her throat.

"It means you're stuck with me, _Mrs_. Ward, for all eternity," he murmured, resting his forehead against Skye's and brushing the back of his hand tenderly across the apple of her unmarked cheek.

Skye only smiled in response.

She was certain that, for the rest of her life, there was no place she would rather be than by Grant Ward's side.


End file.
